“I’ll be glad to come then.”
“Any luck?” Patricia inquired, as she met Craig in the hall of her own home the next noon.
“Not a bit,” looking so dejected that Patricia could hardly keep from smiling.
“Too bad; but don’t be quite so downcast.”
“Good advice; perhaps I’ll run across something on the train. You get into a conversation with strangers, and oftentimes a clew slips out.”
Dinner was a hilarious affair. Craig exerted himself to be entertaining, and Katharine had a silly streak which kept the company in gales of laughter.
“Hate to break away,” said Craig, looking at his watch after they finished their coffee before the fireplace in the living room.
The day had turned cool, and a wood fire was very welcome. “This is awfully cozy,” he went on; “but my train goes in twenty minutes.”
“Why don’t you let Pat tuck you into her machine, and go back with the girls?” suggested Mr. Randall.
“Like nothing better,” replied Craig, unfolding his long body slowly as he rose reluctantly from a big easy chair; “but I have my return ticket, and ‘Waste not, want not’ is one of my mottoes.”